Last Dance
by MajinSakuko
Summary: Complete! It's the Leaving Ball at Hogwarts, and Draco wants to supervise Harry. What can he do when he doesn't want the school to know about their relationship? Ask Harry to dance, of course...


Title: Last Dance

Author: MajinSakuko

E-Mail: MajinSakukoyahoo.de

Beta-Reader: drusillasrain, Snuffy, JamesMarsters15

Disclaimer: I own nothing, JKR everything else

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing/Main-Chara: HP/DM

Rating: NC-17 PG-13

Genre/s: Romance (Slash), Lemon

Warning/s: cross-dressing, Felching

Summary: It's the Leaving Ball at Hogwarts, and Draco wants to supervise Harry. What can he do when he doesn't want the school to know about their relationship?

A/N: Inspired by Emura's "W Juliet" (the Manga)

I don't like pink. And I don't like the taste of strawberries when it's not a strawberry I'm eating.

The icon for this story is a scan from the first Manga. Actually, I stumbled across the picture after I'd written the fic, and it fits perfectly ;)

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It was Harry Potter's seventh – and, thankfully, last – year at Hogwarts. In only a few days, he would be free to do whatever he wanted. No more worries about crazy gothics after his neck (Voldemort) or his sanity (Snape). Voldemort was dead and Snape would remain at Hogwarts while he, Harry, would buy a little house somewhere in London, or maybe even farther away where no one knew his name. Not only would he be free from the pressure of being the impeccable Boy-Who-Lived – which he wasn't, anyway – he would also have the chance to openly be together with his beloved. Draco had this silly resolution to keep his 'Hogwarts' Ice-cube' image until the very last day of school. His image would be gone to hell within milliseconds if their peers saw how Draco behaved around Harry.

It was the Leaving Ball and Harry suppressed a yawn, speeding his movements up a bit in the hopes that the song ended sooner, too. His dress shoes were gliding over the floor and he tried to surreptitiously bring more distance between himself and Parvati Patil, who was currently his dancing partner.

The Great Hall was decorated in bright colours, and the walls were lined with food and beverages. It wasn't exactly boring - if you were here together with your boyfriend, that was. Harry, though, was separated from Draco, and he couldn't bring himself to enjoy anything.

Harry longed to break free but couldn't, not yet. Even if he felt as though he'd danced with Parvati for ages, he knew it had been less than two minutes. Hermione was dancing with Ron, Ginny with her newest boyfriend, and a rescue was nowhere in sight when the saviour of the Wizarding World was in dire need of one.

'What a nice way to repay me,' he thought, sniffing indignantly.

Harry was just resigning himself to his fate when Parvati abruptly stopped, scowling over her shoulder at the girl who dared to interrupt her dance.

"What?" she hissed, looking the blonde over. The intruder was approximately her height with shoulder-length, honey-blonde hair and large brown eyes, which were currently blinking innocently at her.

"May I cut in?" It was phrased like a question but the girl didn't wait a second. Instead she stepped forward, pushing Parvati out of the way with a skilful thrust of her hip. She grabbed both of Harry's hands, guiding them into position, and urged the boy to move again.

Harry could only watch, perplexed, as Parvati stomped her foot angrily before he was whirled around by the blonde.

"I'm so going to kill you for this, Potter," the girl hissed, and Harry frowned at the now more familiar voice. "These shoes are killing me and I'm getting dizzy from the height!"

"D-Draco?" Harry stammered, leaning back to examine the supposed girl. The blond was wearing a dark-red plaid skirt, knee-high scarlet boots and a pink blouse. "Is that you under all that, well, that?"

"We're not on first-name basis anymore, Mister!" hissed the blond. "This is all your fault! As if it could be any different!"

"Draco, what-" Harry didn't understand a word. And even if he was guilty of whatever his boyfriend was accusing him, he'd really like to know before Draco did anything rash.

"It's 'Dintea', you prat," snarled the blond, his brown eyes flashing in annoyance. "I swear, if anyone finds out about this farce, I'm going to throttle you in your sleep. I'm not making idle threats, mind."

Harry couldn't help the chuckle, finding the situation a bit surreal. "Oh, I believe you. You said something about supervising my – how did you put it? – 'social interaction amidst this pit of raging hormonal sluts'."

Draco merely lifted a brow, daring Harry to say something about his choice of words.

"But why are you dressed up like a girl?" whispered Harry, taking great joy in whirling Draco around and making him even more dizzy.

"What better place to supervise you than being on the first front?" Draco looked smug at his own ingenious plan.

"Hmm," Harry hummed, frowning. "The brown eyes don't suit you."

"Oh, thanks," Draco hissed through his teeth. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear. Be glad that it's only a Glamour Charm. And before you say anything about my newly acquired bust: I merely charmed the blouse."

"Glad to hear that," Harry grinned, squinting at Draco's chest. "I wouldn't even know what to do with them were they real."

Draco rolled his eyes and pinched Harry's arm. "Stop ogling my breasts! That's really impolite!"

"Yeah, yeah." Harry pulled Draco closer. "What did you do with your hair? This charm must be fantastic; it looks as if it's real..."

"I would never use a charm on my hair," Draco said, scandalised, and gave Harry a look, as if the mere thought was incredible stupid. "It could go horribly wrong and my natural colour would be ruined – maybe my hair'd be dirty blonde, then. Could you imagine the horror?" Draco shivered in dread, shaking his head quickly to dispel this awful vision. "It's a wig."

"Clever, Draco, very clever." Harry's eyes twinkled.

"If you'd be as clever, you'd remember that I told you to call me 'Dintea'!"

"Sorry," Harry said, a strange emotion flashing over his features. "That's just too sweet, 'Dintea,'" he cooed, and Draco blushed angrily despite himself. "You listened to one too many Muggle songs? Dintea..." He laughed quietly.

"What's that supposed to mean? I should have stayed in my dorm until the stupid ball was over as you so obviously don't want me here! Go on and make fun of me for all I care; I'm leaving!" Before Draco could carry out his threat though, Harry tightened his hold on his boyfriend.

"I'm not making fun of you," Harry protested. "Stay. Please?"

Draco's resolve melted away and he nodded, letting himself be tugged closer to his boyfriend. "I'm only staying because I have to supervise you, you know. I hate that obnoxious shrew," the blond spat, eyes narrowing at the back of Parvati. "Nobody's allowed to get this close to you - but me!" He pressed even closer to illustrate his point.

"You've got nothing to worry about," Harry said, biting back the benevolent smile he wanted to bestow upon his jealous lover. "I only have eyes for you."

The narrowed gaze turned to Harry. "I can't be so sure about that, Mr. Let's-Wear-The-Tightest-Pair-Of-Dress-Pants-I-Can-Get-My-Hands-On-Because-I-Want-To-Show-Off-My-Arse!"

"It's not only the tightest pair, it's also the only pair I own," Harry said dryly. "And need I remind you that you chose them? Do you remember?"

Draco frowned thoughtfully. "Vaguely." He stopped abruptly, glaring at his boyfriend. "I don't hear you complaining about my choice of attire, though," he said in a slow and deliberate voice. "Isn't the skirt a bit too short? Aren't the boots a bit too sexy? Isn't the blouse a bit too tight? I mean, you can see every curve of my breasts – even if they're just hot air!"

"Aww," said Harry. "You're just too cute when you want to make me jealous!"

"I'm not trying to make you jealous!" Draco denied hotly. "I don't care whether you're jealous or not! That's just ridiculous! As if I would sink so low! Ha!" He took a quick breath, brows forking and eyes questioning. "Are you? Jealous, I mean? Even only a tiny bit?"

"No," said Harry softly, following Draco's gaze as the blond tried to evade him. "I don't need to be. You only want the best – and you've already got me."

"You're spending way too much time with me when you're spouting this kind of junk," Draco grinned. "Not that you're allowed to change anything about it..."

Harry merely smiled and led Draco in a circle around the hall. "Do you want something to drink?" he asked suddenly.

Draco nodded. "A glass of the non-alcoholic punch would be nice."

"I'll be back in a second." Harry wormed his way through the dancing couples until he reached the table. He cast a quick charm to determine which non-alcoholic punch really held no alcohol before he filled two glasses.

"No, no, shaving is not the wisest decision," Harry heard Draco (whose voice sounded a bit breathy) explaining to two younger girls as he arrived with the drinks. The blond was waving his arms, illustrating his point. "Epilating is much better for girls with sensitive skin like you."

"Uh-huh," a small brunette nodded with admiring eyes. "Thank you!"

Harry bit back a smirk, holding the glass of punch towards Draco. "Here you are."

The blond turned around, clapping his hands. "Finally," he exclaimed, accepting the glass and taking a small gulp. After they finished the punch, Harry put the empty glasses on a side table, and he and Draco decided to dance a bit more in order to avoid those annoying girls.

"Planning on a cosmetic career?" asked Harry innocently once he was quite sure they couldn't be overheard anymore. "Or were you just sharing important tricks with your new little girlfriends?"

Draco's features darkened. "I wouldn't have had to chat with those brainless twits at all if you'd kept your promise. Really, Harry, you took more than one second to get the drinks." He rolled his eyes, huffing. "They didn't even know what epilating was in the first place. I mean, how thick can you be?"

Draco sounded so incredulous that Harry didn't dare pointing out that he himself didn't know what Draco was talking about. If it kept Draco happy, Harry let him blabber. And if Draco's soft skin was anything to go by, Harry was sure that he didn't need to know what this deprimating was about to enjoy the benefits it provided.

"What do you think, Harry?" Draco asked seriously, ripping the dark-haired boy out of his thoughts.

Harry blinked at his boyfriend, a look of shock crossing his face. "I think Charms isn't your best subject."

"What?" frowned Draco. "The choice of the perfect epi-"

"Your eyes!" interrupted Harry quickly. "They're back to grey!"

Draco's eyes widened, then he squinted them quickly lest anyone looked his direction. "Shit," he whispered.

"Tell me about it..." Harry thought quickly. They needed to get out of the Great Hall. Everyone knew that Draco's eye colour was uniquely 'Malfoy' even if Draco hated that fact most of the time. If anyone saw that 'Dintea' had Draco's eyes it wouldn't take a Hermione to figure out the rest. "Oh!"

"What now?" hissed Draco, looking around them.

"You're, uh – I don't know how to put it nicely – you're deflating."

Draco glanced down at his flattening chest. "I don't know how I managed to get a NEWT in Charms, really. This shouldn't be happening." He pressed closer to Harry to hide the fact that he was flat as a board again. A passing couple glared at them as if they were making out openly just because Draco was intruding on Harry's personal space more than was considered polite.

Harry chuckled at the absurdity of the situation, shaking his head. "Okay," he said. "Don't make any eye contact and keep close to me. I'll manoeuvre us out of here."

"My hero," Draco said sarcastically but did as he was told. "But only so you know: Just because I'm currently in distress doesn't mean I'm a damsel."

Harry's eyes were twinkling again as they met Draco's defiant gaze. "Whatever you say, Dintea."

Ten metres short of freedom, they practically stumbled over an obstacle.

"Hey, Harry," Ron said. "Where's Parvati? I thought you two were here together."

Harry winced; Draco had pinched his side. "Um, dunno," Harry said evasively. "She had to leave a bit earlier."

"And who's that, Harry?" asked Hermione pointedly. "Don't you want to introduce us?"

'No, but thanks for asking.' Draco buried his face deeper in Harry's chest and shook his head no.

"Dintea's a bit... shy," Harry explained, apologetic. "Fifth year Hufflepuff," he added with a shrug, as if that explained it all. Then he choked; Draco had rammed his heel into Harry's foot. "And she's unwell... We're going for a bit of fresh air." Harry wheezed and thanked Merlin that Draco didn't decide to wear high heels, thus leaving him with all five toes attached to his foot.

"All right. See you later, Harry."

"It was nice to meet you, Dintea," said Hermione and waved Harry goodbye. Harry thought that maybe he was only imagining the knowing glint in her eyes.

"Bye," said Draco in a painful high voice and nearly fled the room, dragging Harry behind him. "Hufflepuff?" he asked shrilly once they were out of earshot. "Hufflepuff! Do I look like a sodding Hufflepuff?" The blond seemed to be in shock.

"Hufflepuff is the only house Ron and Hermione don't know many students from. And I don't think they would have let me leave with you if they knew which house you're really in," Harry explained to the spluttering – and highly insulted - Slytherin. "Come on, let's get you back to your dorm."

"Hufflepuff Tower is this way," Draco snarled. "Merlin, Harry, how could you? I thought you loved me!" His grey eyes started to tear up. "Hufflepuff," he wailed. "You think I could be a Hufflepuff!"

Harry shook his head and hauled Draco behind him. "Sometimes I don't know why I even bother," he muttered. "I mean, I know I love him, but then again, no one would hold it against me..."

They rounded another corner and entered a hallway that would eventually lead to the dungeons. "Come on. We've got to get you out of these clothes," Harry said, adding under his breath, "Before you turn completely into a girl."

"Potter!" snapped a horrified – and painfully familiar – voice.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, Draco bumping into him from behind, hiccupping piteously. That was exactly what Harry wouldn't be missing once he was out of Hogwarts: Snape in all his nasty varieties. Snape in a classroom; Snape in the hallway; Snape taking points; Snape appearing out of the blue when he was dragging small crying girls behind him and demanding that they got out of their clothes.

That just didn't sound right.

"What do you think you're doing?" snarled Snape, clamping his bony fingers around Harry's shoulder and ripping him away from the blond.

"Professor, it's not what it looks like!" Harry tried to defend himself.

"It's exactly what it looks like! Your Golden Boy status won't-"

"I-" Harry glanced helplessly at Draco who, even through his tears, peered gleefully at his boyfriend. "It's not- Come on!" he begged, but the blond just mouthed one word: 'Hufflepuff.'

"Follow me, Potter," sneered Snape, pushing the boy in front of him. "And stop trying to influence the girl; that's pathetic, even for you." The sneer morphed into a poor version of a soothing smile as he turned his gaze to Draco, making shooing motions. "And you better get back to your dorm, Miss..." he trailed off, frowning, before he shook his head. "I'll be talking to Professor Sprout later."

That was, of course, the wrong thing to say.

"Ah!" cried Draco, throwing his hands in the air. "Why is everyone assuming I'm a bloody Hufflepuff?" he asked the ceiling, uncaring at last who heard him and figured out who he really was. "I mean, if I had combed the wig into pigtails I could accept it, but I decided not to! So why? Why?"

Harry barely managed to rein in his laughter at Snape's utterly horrified expression. Even if Draco could have hurried up a bit, this look was worth the entire wait for Harry.

"D-" Snape choked. "Dr-?" was everything he managed, but Draco understood.

"It's all a big misunderstanding," the blond exclaimed with a charming smile. "Harry didn't do-"

"And I don't want to know!" interrupted Snape hastily, raising his palms in a protective gesture. He back-pedalled, looking quite disturbed. "Never!" He shook his head and then vanished from sight when he rounded a corner.

"Now your image is down the drain," Harry said lightly, moving closer to his boyfriend.

"I don't think so," answered Draco, circling Harry's waist with his arms and leaning into him. "Snape won't say anything. Ever."

Smiling, Harry bent down to drop a kiss upon Draco's pink lips. "Well, better get you back to your dorm before we encounter anyone else."

Draco frowned thoughtfully. "I don't think I want to go back there just yet."

"Where do you want to go, then?"

"I want to go somewhere a bit more private. No, I don't want it, I actually require it."

"Oh. Okay," Harry grinned, grabbing Draco's hand and dragging him in the opposite direction.

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A/N: That was the first part, the second one won't be posted on for it's NC-17. Everyone who wants to read on can follow the link to my lj journal, then click to Fics and choose "Last Dance" in the Harry/Draco category.

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